


That Butler, Playing Ambassador

by Drizzt_Do_Urden



Category: Deltora Quest, Kuroshitsuji
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Fantasy, Literature, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2020-01-15 09:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18496288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drizzt_Do_Urden/pseuds/Drizzt_Do_Urden
Summary: Lief, Barda, and Jasmine are sent to Victorian Britain by Doom in order to sign a treaty with Queen Victoria, as well as to get them away from the Shadow Lord in general. The person hosting the trio, however, is none other than Earl Ciel Phantomhive, the Queen's Watchdog.A Deltora Quest and Black Butler crossover. I thought it would be interesting to see how the Black and White world of Deltora Quest interacts with the very grey morals of Black Butler. Also, I've headcanoned the Deltorans, or the Del tribe at least, as POC, because of Jasmine's "Ambigously Brown" status in TvTropes. The Toran people might also count, given that they're dark-haired.Anastasia and her British descendants are my OCs, as Adin's kids are unnamed.





	1. Arrival

        The country of Deltora had been ruled for centuries by a series of ineffective puppet monarchs, whose strings were controlled by, of all things, the country's greatest enemy, the Shadow Lord, ruler of the Shadowlands to the north. That is, until about sixteen years ago, when the Shadow Lord finally deposed the puppet king and officially began ruling the country. The Shadow Lord, however, was a tyrant and not at all popular with the people. So the Resistance, naturally, was looking to overthrow him. In order to do this, they needed a magical Belt forged by the legendary first king, Adin, and the seven magic gems that adorned it, and the true heir to the throne. For only a royal could wear the Belt and use its magic to drive out the Shadow Lord.  Thanks to three intrepid heroes known as Lief, Jasmine, and Barda, they had this Belt, and the gems. They did not, however, have the true heir. Or anything resembling a true heir.   
      So the leader of the Resistance, Doom, chose to try and employ a different strategy in the meantime, one that gave astounding results to other rebellions who'd used it before. Namely, gaining the assistance of a foreign power.   
        The foreign power in question? The mighty British Empire, headed by none other than Queen Victoria herself! And what would Queen Victoria possibly see in a puny, impoverished nation such as Deltora? Precious metals, of course! All those precious metals tucked away in the Dread Gnome Mountains!   
          And who would be making this deal with the British Empire? Why, the three heroes who found the Belt, of course! Which was probably not one of Doom's brighter decisions, in retrospect. For while the three heroes were great at questing for magical items, their personalities and backgrounds wouldn't suggest that they would be anything other than terrible diplomats.   
        Jasmine, for starters, was a girl who'd grown up and spent almost all of her sixteen years of life in a forest, and half that was all alone. She had parents, once, but they died when she was seven. The result was a rather unladylike woman with excellent survivalist skills but almost no social skills.  
         Barda was somewhat better, as he used to be a palace guard. But martial training is not diplomacy, and he, too, had a rude streak. Not to mention, he was a bit materialistic, and rather exacting about his materialism.   
        There was some hope for Lief, since he was a polite person by nature, and his parents had had a habit of playing mind games with him when he was a child. But he, too, had his limits, for he was a blacksmith's son, not a courtier. And while all heroes were literate, which was a step above most Deltoran citizens, knowing how to read and write is not the same as knowing which words to agree to on a treaty. Looking at the three as they boarded the boat to England, fake passports in hand, it was plain to any member of the Resistance that they were not chosen for their skills but rather because they had become notorious in Deltora and that Doom wanted them and the Belt out of the Shadow Lord's reach.  
        To add insult to injury, their disguises were absolutely ludicrous. This was not the trio's fault so much as it was a result of the Resistance's limitations. Their cover was that they were deposed nobility fleeing the country, but as nobles dress ostentatiously there was only so much the Resistance could provide in that department. The result was that they looked more a theater troupe in bad nobles' costumes than they did the real thing.   
       A fact which was not lost on by their hosts as the trio rode up to Phantomhive Manor in a farmer's wagon.  
       "Is that the Deltoran delegation or the entertainment you've hired for them?" Marchioness Frances Midford asked as she stared at the wagon driving up to the gates.   
       "I didn't hire any entertainment," Earl Ciel Phantomhive, who, at the grand age of thirteen was the esteemed owner of Phantomhive Manor, replied. "So it's probably them."   
        The wagon stopped at the steps, and two members of the trio, a middle-aged man with a bushy beard and an absurd purple hat with far too many feathers, and a boy of sixteen in a somewhat less-absurd green cap with only one feather, nodded politely to the driver, who drove off after all three members of the trio got out. The man and the boy then proceeded to bow to their hosts, whilst the third member of the trio, a girl of sixteen whose gown was in quite a bit of disrepair, simply stood and did nothing. Said gown's disrepair, being rips in a few unfortunate places, quickly caught the ire of the marchioness.   
       "My word!" Lady Frances Midford replied, "I didn't know they'd brought a lady of the night as part of the delegation!"   
        The middle-aged man in the purple hat scowled.  
         "I told you you should have worn the shawl!"   
          The girl glanced at her mostly uncovered chest, one of the results of said disrepair, and snapped,   
          "Why? It's summer! And that thing is made of fur. And covered in mothballs, too."  
           The boy chose not to comment, and instead bowed once again and said,  
           "Greetings, and thank you for letting us stay at your lovely home. You,"   
           The boy nodded to Ciel,   
           "You must be Lord Phantomhive. And you,"   
           The boy nodded to the marchioness,   
           "You must be his aunt, Lady Frances. And...you...you are,"   
            The boy stared at the tall man standing behind Ciel Phantomhive, trying to place the immaculately-dressed servant.   
            "Ah, pay no mind to me," the servant said with a smile, "I am Sebastian, the butler."   
            "Thank you," the boy replied. "And I am..."  
             The boy thought for a while, as if struggling to remember something.  
             "Edward Fairbairn. And this..."  
             The boy gestured at the bearded man,  
             "This is my uncle, James Fairbairn. And this..."   
             "My name is Jasmine," the girl said bluntly. "How do you do?"   
             Both the man and boy then stiffened, as if embarassed.  
              "Jasmine!" the middle-aged chided.   
              "What?" Jasmine replied, shrugging. "It's not as if they're spies for the Shadow Lord or something."   
               "She's right," the boy said with a laugh, "Those are just the names Doom gave us for the passports. And...I know that he said to stick to them, but...perhaps...to allow for a bit of trust between our nations...we could give you our real names. Here- I'll start with mine- My name is Lief. And this..."   
              The boy gestured back to the middle aged man,   
               "Is Barda. No relation of mine."   
               "Well then, it is good to finally meet you all," Lady Frances began. "And, uh, perhaps we should get your friend Jasmine some clothes, eh?"  
               Jasmine looked back at the marchioness blankly.   
                "But...I am wearing clothes," she said, glancing down at her dress. "Granted, they're not the greatest, but you have to realize, a lot of it was covered in blood when Doom handed it to me. They were all going on about 'making a good impression' and I figured bloody clothes wouldn't help that, so I ripped off the bloody parts."   
             "Ah! Is _that_ why part of your left side is exposed and you only have one sleeve?" Sebastian exclaimed, his feigned curiosity clearly only there to avoid a diplomatic crisis.  
             "Yes," Jasmine replied, not noticing the fake curiosity.  
              "Ahem!" the Earl said. "Shall we go in for some tea?"   
               "Yes," Barda replied happily, "Yes, that would be wonderful!"   
               With that, the group proceeded to follow the earl inside the mansion, seemingly without a care in the world. All except for Lief, who glanced down at the belt around his midsection, noticed that the normally vibrant ruby on it had gone pale, and then glanced uneasily at Sebastian.   
               "You're sure that nobody here is a spy for the Shadow Lord, right?" Lief asked.   
               "I'm absolutely positive," Sebastian replied, looking rather puzzled. "Her Majesty would not give my master the task of housing the delegation if she suspected him of any treachery. Why? Why do you ask?"  
               "N-no reason," Lief stammered, glancing at the still-pale ruby, as he followed everyone inside.   
***   
            "I believe Sebastian may be a spy for the Shadow Lord," Lief said to Jasmine and Barda as they sat in his guest room late that night.   
             Barda's jaw dropped.   
             "What?! Why?" he gasped.   
             "I would have thought it was that Lady Midford person," Jasmine said, her eyebrows going up. "She was very judgmental of me for no reason."   
             "Your dress was more than enough reason!" Barda exclaimed. "How could you possibly think it was proper to show up like that in front of nobility!"  
             "All our clothes are ridiculous," Jasmine pointed out. "You expect me to think they liked your bright orange tunic with those weird gold threads on it?"  
              "It's called embroidery," Barda told her, "And yes."   
              "No, I'm certain it was Sebastian," Lief informed them, ignoring the petty squabble. "The ruby paled whenever he was in the room and was only restored when he left."   
               "But he's been serving the Earl for three years," Barda pointed out. "Long before any of us even knew of the Resistance. Certainly longer than we've had the fully restored Belt, and definitely longer than we've traveling together. Why, you, Jasmine, you were still in the Forests of Silence, and you, Lief, you were still a scamp getting into trouble, and I was still playing the beggar and watching over you."   
              "Maybe he was here to hunt distant relatives of the royal family," Jasmine suggested. "The Earl mentioned that he's been studying the Deltoran royal family tree, and it says that Adin had five children. He also knows that  Adin's second child, Anastasia, left Deltora to explore the world and settled in England. According to the records he has, her descendants became the Anastasi family and have lived here for at least ten generations."   
            "Well, if he was here to hunt distant relatives, then he hasn't been all that successful, has he?" Lief murmured.   
            "Still, it's a promising lead," Barda said. "And a much stronger one than 'Dain might be the heir because he looks Toran and his name is an anagram of Adin'."   
             Lief scowled.   
             "I still think we should have brought Dain with us. If he is the heir, he should be here to add his name to the treaty."   
             "And if Sebastian is really a spy like you think, then he would have killed Dain within seconds of his arrival," Jasmine countered.   
             Lief sighed.  
             "Point taken. Tomorrow we will go visit the Anastasi family and see if any of them can activate the Belt."  
             
            Meanwhile, in Ciel's room, he and Sebastian were having a similar conversation.   
            "My lord, I believe Lief may know of my true identity," Sebastian told Ciel as he sat reading in bed.   
             Ciel's eyes, one ordinary blue and one purple with the mark of their contract on it, widened.   
            "What? How?"   
             "The Belt of Deltora," Sebastian replied. "The ruby gem on it pales in the presence of evil. And, as a demon, that includes me. I don't think he knows that I am a demon, though. He probably thinks I'm a spy for his country's two-bit tyrant."   
              Ciel raised an eyebrow.   
              "Two-bit tyrant?"   
              "Well, yes, he does have some considerable power," Sebastian conceded, "And he's quite inventive, what with his monsters and his shapeshifting Ols, but as to his army of Grey Guards, well, they might be unstoppable against the perpetually medieval Deltorans, but a few good men with muskets would be unstoppable against them. I have no interest, nor would I ever, in helping him engage in his petty bullying of a technologically stagnant people."  
              "Nevertheless, they shall probably accuse you," Ciel said, scowling.   
              "Yes, and I shall deny, and they will be required to bring proof, of which there is none."   
               "And in the meantime," Ciel replied, a small smile beginning to creep across his face, "We can use their suspicion to manipulate them into doing what we want."   
              Sebastian scowled.   
              "Those three would be easy to manipulate regardless," he said. "They mentioned that that Jasmine has never set foot in human society prior to their adventures, and it _shows_. Any other woman would have known she'd be stared at in that outfit. And Barda? Well- he's a spoiled old fool starved of luxury- a little bit of pampering and he'll fall right into our clutches. The only remotely intelligent one is that Lief boy, but even he has his limits, what with his common background and all. It's a wonder the three of them survived their little quest for their sacred relic."  
           "Yes, Lief is a smart one," Ciel agreed. "And blacksmithing would indeed be a tragic waste of his time. With a proper British education, though- why, he could work wonders."   
           Sebastian raised an eyebrow.   
           "You're not thinking of making him your project, are you?"   
           "Would it be so bad if I was?"   
           "No, my lord, you just have a habit of making brown people your projects and failing."   
           "He's a great deal less spoiled than Prince Soma, if that's who you're talking about," Ciel replied. "Not to mention, he's hardly brown. He's actually quite a bit pale."  
           "I just don't want to end up with another idiot governing your townhouse, that's all," Sebastian said.  
            "Well, he's not an idiot, just unpolished," Ciel assured him. "Not to mention, he said he's planning on returning to Deltora once this is all over. So I don't think we're in any danger of that."   
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	2. Barking Up the Wrong Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzy destroys Jasmine's already-destroyed dress. Lief, Barda, and Ciel visit some descendants of Adin's second child, only to find that the line has thinned out, while Jasmine goes to get new clothes. But there is hope in a Great-Aunt Letitia and her brood, although said brood is not promising.

"For the last time, you spoiled brat, no, I do NOT want to try on dresses with you!" Jasmine yelled, standing helplessly in the foyer as a blond girl in a frilly pink dress sobbed and buried her head in Jasmine's dress, causing said dress to rip even further on the exposed side and reveal of all of the skin down to and including Jasmine's hip. The blond girl neither seemed to notice nor care.  
"Umm...Lord Phantomhive...who is that girl?" Lief asked nervously as he, Barda and the Earl stood on the staircase observing the scene.  
Ciel scowled.   
"That would be Lady Elizabeth Midford," he told them. "My fiancee."  
"You're...betrothed to that whelp?!" Barda exclaimed.  
"Yes, although I wouldn't call her that," Ciel said, shooting Barda a look. "Lady Frances is her mother."   
"Lady Frances?!" Barda gasped. "Really? Why, I would have thought the woman would have had more sense than to raise such a-"   
"Well, if we don't do something, Jasmine's going to be naked," Lief interrupted, pointing to Jasmine's other side, which was also exposed and was in danger of becoming even more so.  
Lief walked down the stairs and shouted,   
"Hey, Jasmine, the carriage taking us to the Anastasi family's house is ready."   
"It is?" Jasmine exclaimed, suddenly perking up. She tore Lady Elizabeth off of her dress and happily rushed off towards the entrance, with Lief, Barda, and Ciel Phantomhive, running after her. Hardly had Jasmine gone anywhere, however, when Lady Elizabeth exclaimed,   
"You-you can't leave in that!"  
Everyone stopped and turned to look at Elizabeth, who was suddenly joined by Lady Frances, who glowered at Jasmine and agreed,   
"Indeed! The thing's practically falling off of you!"   
Jasmine glanced down at her dress, and then said with a shrug,   
"Well, it didn't look like that when we arrived yesterday."  
She then sighed and said,   
"Fine, I guess I'll go get some new clothes with this little minx of yours, Lady Frances."  
"Yay!" Elizabeth exclaimed, clapping her hands happily.  
"Have fun visiting the Anastasis without me," Jasmine said, turning around back to Ciel, Lief, and Barda.  
"It won't be fun so much as investigation," Ciel pointed out. "And besides, I don't think you'll be the only one suffering my fiancee."   
Ciel glanced at Barda's absurd purple hat with many feathers and bright orange tunic, and at Lief, who had wisely chosen to forgo the cap, as well as the green tunic overburdened with fur at the collar and cuffs and torn hemline he'd sported yesterday, in favor of more simple peasant clothes and a beautiful gray-green cloak. The latter outfit, which, while better-looking, would not be fancy enough to escape Lizzy.  
"I have a feeling your companions will be next."   
And with that, Ciel, Barda, and Lief exited the house and got into the carriage, which headed for the Anastasi family home.   
"Conveniently enough, the Anastasi family home isn't actually all that far from the manor," Ciel explained as they rode along in the carriage. "Relatively speaking. They've done quite well for themselves in the ensuing generations since Anastasia arrived in Britain. While they never ascended to nobility or even gentry, they ARE old money of a sort."  
"As well as royalty," Barda pointed out.   
"Yes, well, I'm not sure how well they'll react to THAT- or to being asked to take over Deltora," Ciel replied. "I've never had any dealings with them, business or pleasure. I do know, however, that they are a military family as well as a merchant one- many of their male descendants over the years have earned medals and positions of high rank in the military."   
"Speaking of which," Barda asked, "You must be awfully close with your Queen in order to have been given the task of handling the negotiations."   
"Yes," Ciel mused. "I suppose I am."   
"Well, when will we see the treaty?" Lief asked.  
"Whenever you- oh, look, we're here," Ciel announced, glancing out the window.  
The carriage then stopped, and the three of them got out, and found themselves glancing at a manor house which, while fairly impressive, was still not as big or grandiose as Ciel's own residence. They walked up the stairs to the house and were let in by the maid, and found themselves in a foyer which was empty save for a young blonde woman at the top of the staircase.   
"Your Lordship," the woman said as she descended the stairs, "Lords Fairbairn. It is good to finally meet you."   
The woman curtsied and said,   
"My name is Edith Brown Anastasi, wife to the late Mr. Adin Anastasi."   
"James Fairbairn," Barda replied, bowing slightly.   
Barda pointed to Lief.   
"And this is my nephew, Edward, although, as you were informed, neither of those are our true names. We cannot give them because, as you know- the Shadow Lord. And, of course, you know his lordship the Earl."   
Barda pointed to Ciel, who, alongside Lief, also gave a slight bow.   
"You mentioned your husband was deceased?" Ciel asked.  
"Yes," Edith replied nonchalantly, "Not six weeks ago, actually. He was getting up in years, though, so it was to be expected."   
Ciel eyed Edith's dress, which was light blue in color, with not the slightest trace of black anywhere else in her clothes.  
Rather odd for a grieving widow who's supposed to be in mourning, he thought to himself. Although judging by her tone and her age, and his stated age, I suspect there's not much 'grieving' going on.  
"I am afraid, therefore, that he cannot take over as king of Deltora, as you probably wanted him to, judging by the content of your missive," Edith continued.  
"Well, there are other relatives, surely," Lief asked. "Siblings, parents, grandchildren?"   
Edith sighed and shook her head.   
"Come," she said, gesturing towards the stairs, "Let us have tea. This is going to be a lot."   
The three of them followed Edith up the stairs and into a lovely pink tearoom, where there was already a table set with a tea tray and a lot of delectable-looking teacakes. They sat down and Edith began pouring each of them a cup of tea.   
"I'm afraid most of my husbands' brothers died in service to the British crown in some way or another," she explained after each of them had received a teacup.   
"Three of them died fighting the Burmese in 1824, and the other two died fighting the Ashanti. And it's the same with his sons, I'm afraid. Almost all of them died in either the Crimean War, the Anglo-Persian War, or the Indian Rebellion. All except for Matthew, the oldest, that is. But unfortunately, he died some time ago in a train accident. And as for grandchildren-well, Matthew only had one son, and he died in the train accident too-"  
"What about daughters?"   
Edith scoffed.   
"Daughters? Don't be ridiculous-"  
"It's not ridiculous," Ciel said. "The Deltoran rules of succession have no gender preference. So long as the wearer is a descendant of Adin, I'm told, the wearer of their 'Belt' will accept any new monarch, king or queen."   
"Oh," Edith replied, drawing in a breath. "Well, my husband's family, I'm afraid, isn't more much more massive than their royal cousins. While we do have about five or six children per generation, most of those children tend to die in some way before making any more branches of their own. Only one boy tends to have any children, and if it's a girl, well- either they die early, or marry and die long before they have children. But if it's girls you want, well, there is one granddaughter still living, but I'm afraid that's it in regards to girls."   
"Can we see her?" Barda asked eagerly.   
Edith shook her head.   
"I'm afraid not," she said. "The granddaughter- my granddaughter, technically, although I'm far too young for those- is quite ill, far too ill to receive visitors. It's consumption, I'm afraid."  
"Edith," a weak voice said from behind them, "That's not true."   
Everyone turned, and found a pale, thin, sickly golden-blond girl in a dressing gown standing a hallway.   
"Not about the consumption, that is- I'm afraid there's nothing the doctors can do about that- but there are other female relatives, ones who did have children. Well, not relatives, plural, there's really only one. Great-Aunt Letitia."   
"Virginia!" Edith cried sharply, a very worried tone creeping into her voice. "What are you doing out of bed?"  
"She exists," Virginia pointed out sharply. "Or she did. They might as well know about her. It's not like Great-Aunt Letitia running off and marrying a baker is any shame on their household- if these 'Fairbairns' have one. And if our ancestral homeland really is hard up for heirs, they might as well know. Especially since I'm the last living member of the main Anastasi bloodline- and you know how long the dynasty would last if I was queen. I wouldn't even make it to coronation day."   
Edith sighed.   
"The girl has a point," she conceded. "But they're not exactly the... respectable sort. The first son- he's alright, but his younger brother, oh, he's...he's..."   
"A lush," Virginia interrupted, as her step-grandmother averted her eyes in shame. "A lush who's always hitting up his brother and grandpa for money. Or he was. Now he's hitting up his brother and my step-granny."  
"I...highly suggest visiting Jacob first," Edith said, grimacing.  
"Of course," Barda assured her. "We wouldn't dare put a drunk on Adin's throne!"   
"That drunk might be our only hope if Jacob also turns out to be dead," Lief pointed out grimly. "Insulting him is probably not a good idea."  
"Although..." Lief added, taking a deep breath in, "If drunk Edward turns out to be our only hope, I'm calling this search off and just appointing Dain the next king."   
"Dain?" Edith asked. "Who's Dain?"   
"Yes," Ciel demanded. "Who is this Dain?"  
"Dain is the heir," Lief replied.   
"The one we think is the heir," Barda explained. "We're not sure. We have no proof."   
"If we'd brought him," Lief countered. "We might have proof. And I still think his signature should be on the treaty!"   
"If you have no proof, his signature would be nothing more than an empty claim," Ciel pointed out. " Worse, it might even be dishonest, should someone be proven to be your last king's long-lost child. As it stands, as the Resistances' official delegates, your names are the most valid ones to put on it as of yet."  
"Yes," Lief agreed, embarassed at being corrected by a child. "You're right."   
"Very well then," Ciel replied, standing and giving a slight bow to Edith. "I believe we shall be taking our leave of you, Miss and Mrs. Anastasi."   
And with that, the three of them were shown out of the parlor by the manservant and exited into the carriage.   
"Well, isn't this a pretty picture!" Barda grumbled as they rode off. "All the possible heirs just happen to be dead or dying."   
"This speaks too much of the Shadow Lord for my taste," Lief murmured. "Clearly, an agent has been sent here to pick off members of the royal family. And that they've been doing so for who knows how long. We should warn Jasmine."   
"Yes," Ciel agreed. "That's quite probable. However, in the case of Mrs. Anastasi I think she simply did away with her husband herself, no Shadow Lord nessecary."  
Lief gasped.   
"What?! Why?"   
Ciel scoffed.   
"A young lady married to an old man, who just happens to have died recently, and she doesn't appear to be grieving in the slightest? I say she married and killed him to become an independently wealthy woman. Not everything evil in the world is directly related to your tyrant."   
"Then why don't you investigate her?" Barda demanded.   
"Because," Ciel pointed out, "I have no proof. Not to mention, I don't know if she's working alone, or with the Shadow Lord agent."   
"Well then, the next stop is this Jacob man," Lief said with a sigh. "Any idea where he lives?"   
"The manservant gave me a slip of paper with their addresses as we left," Ciel replied. "Or rather...address. Edward seems to make his home in a tavern two houses down from his brother's Jacob's bakery. The brother in question, Jacob, seems to live with nobody but his daughter Jessamine. He's also a widower with no other issue to his name."   
"Well, isn't that convenient!" Barda harrumphed.   
"Indeed," Ciel said with a grimace, indeed it is."   
"We'll split up," Lief said. "You and Jasmine will go to visit Edward, and Barda and I will go visit Jacob."   
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't go," Ciel replied. "Running an earldom tends to keep one quite busy, you know. I'm afraid Sebastian will have to take my place."   
Lief cringed at the thought of Jasmine alone with Sebastian. He knew the earl wouldn't take kindly to accusations against his butler.   
"But doesn't your butler have...other things to do?" Lief asked diplomatically.   
"We can't have Jasmine going off on her own without an escort," Ciel pointed out.   
Lief gulped. Jasmine would not take kindly to an answer in the affirmative, he knew. As well she shouldn't- she was a fearsome warrior, having survived in the Forests of Silence all those years. However, if Lief said no, he'd look quite rash and Ciel would assume he cared nothing for Jasmine's safety.   
"Why not have her go with Lady Frances?" Lief suggested.   
Ciel smiled.   
"A capital idea."

It was indeed capital, at least from Ciel's perspective.   
"Tomorrow we shall have the whole day to ourselves," Ciel told Sebastian as the demon relieved him of his suit jacket. "Lady Frances, Jasmine, Lief, and Barda will all be out visiting random members of the Anastasi branch.  
"And what about Miss Elizabeth?"   
Ciel shrugged.   
"I suppose I'll just tack her onto either one of the groups in the morning. But the point is, we shall be completely free to do a bit of investigation of our own."  
"And what investigation would that be, my lord?"   
Ciel scowled.   
"Don't play dumb with me, Sebastian. We can't just pretend there isn't someone in the Resistance actively gunning for me!"   
"I doubt it was an actual rebel who sent you that letter, my lord," Sebastian said as he pulled off Ciel's boots. "More likely one of that tinpot tyrant's agents trying to fracture the alliance."   
"I know that," Ciel replied. "I doubt there's a single person in Doom's organization who's versed enough in British peerage to know or care about my rank, or even if they did, anyone with enough motive to kill me. Any single real member, that is. What I mean is, there's a spy in the ranks of the Resistance, a spy none of them know about, someone very close to Doom."  
"Yes, that would explain why a bunch of rag-tag, penniless rebels with no one else to turn to wish to kill the representative of their greatest ally," Sebastian mused as he took off the earl's socks.   
"Exactly," Ciel said. "Clearly, the Shadow Lord has an agent who desperately wants to sever the Resistance's ties with Britain. After all, there's no way a member of the 'Resistance' could follow up on that threat, judging by what our delegates had to endure to get here."   
"It was not a very competently done maneuver, if you ask me," Sebastian muttered.   
"Of course not," Ciel scoffed. "I doubt Doom would be stupid enough to support a plot to kill me. Going behind the backs of both the Shadow Lord and the Resistance would be a tremendous cost with very little gain. No, it's a fake, and we must find this fake before he or she does something more drastic than mail me a letter."   
"Oh, and one other thing," Ciel added after Sebastian had finished getting him ready for bed. "We might want to look into the other branches of the Deltoran royal line. You know, after the delegates' search ends in its predictably spectacular failure."   
"But of course, my lord."


	3. Death in the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Great-Aunt Letitia's branch is depleted via murder, leaving only one illiterate baker's daughter. Lief, upon realizing what a terrible idea that would be, talks to Ciel about alternatives.

   "Aaaaaah!"  
   "What is it, Midford?" Jasmine cried, daggers drawn as she and Lady Frances rushed to Elizabeth's side.   
   "He-he's dead," Elizabeth stammered as she stared in horror at the remains of one Edward Anastasi-Baker, whose innards were currently spilled out onto the floor of the tavern bedroom.  
   "Hmm, so Lief was right," Jasmine murmured, sheathing her daggers. "There is a Shadow Lord agent picking off Anastasia's descendants.  
   "Or maybe one of his creditors simply decided to get violent," Lady Frances replied, scowling at the dead lush's remains. "According to the tavern-keeper, he owed a great many people staggering amounts of money."   
  "None of them were particularly poor, though," Jasmine countered. "At least, that's what you said."   
  Lady Frances shook her head.   
  "People still prefer to be repaid, though. And not everyone's genteel enough to not resort to violence."  
  Lady Frances grabbed her daughter and turned on her heel.   
  "Come," she said. "Let us report this to the police and drink some tea and forget all this."   
  "But-but," Jasmine protested.   
  "Hush," Lady Frances insisted. "The police will sort everything out."  
***  
  "It seems our day off isn't going to materialize after all," Sebastian murmured as he and Ciel approached the tavern.   
  "Apparently our fine friends keep finding trouble everywhere they go," Ciel mused. "But it's not like this is a complete surprise- he was a lush, after all. If not murder, he would've died of liver failure on his own eventually."  
  With that, the two walked into the tavern, where they found bobbies interviewing various guests, customers, and of course, the tavern-keeper himself, who was quite agitated, insisting that he had no idea Edward was dead, that he hadn't been anywhere near the man's room.   
  The two of them ignored the ruckus, and walked up the stairs to Edward's room, which was pointed out to them by a helpful detective. There they found the same thing Jasmine, Elizabeth, and Lady      Frances had found hours before: a middle-aged dead man, lying in a pool of blood on the bedroom floor, with his innards spilling out of his body. The room surrounding the body was the typical sort of mess for a drunk- empty liquor bottles, laundry, and angry letters from money-lenders. The item that caught Ciel's eye, however, was a half-eaten slice of pie decorated with what appeared to be blueberries. Upon closer inspection, however, Ciel found otherwise.   
  "Nightshade," Ciel said. "This was premeditated."   
  "And the stab wounds were a cover-up," Sebastian added. "Yes, this was intentional. And it probably wasn't his creditors. Someone benefited from his death."  
  "The Shadow Lord is most likely," Ciel replied. "As he has the most to gain. I wouldn't rule out his creditors, though. Nevertheless, we ought to inform Her Majesty that there may be agents of the Shadow Lord active in England. And our fine friends are to be kept confined to the manor until the treaty is signed, to prevent any harm coming to them."   
  Sebastian frowned.   
  "They're not going to like that."   
  "No, but they'll like dying even less," Ciel replied. "Besides, Lief and Barda have to have collected Mr. and Miss Baker by now."

  They, in fact, had only managed to collect Jessamine, as Ciel and Sebastian would find out. Jacob Baker, as the tearful Jessamine explained, had died that morning of a strange illness Jessamine was incapable of naming, leaving her all alone in the world without a penny to her name.  
  "Well, isn't this wonderful?" Ciel spat, after Jessamine had been shown to a room in the manor. "First the main Anastasi branch is all but died out, now there's only one member left of the only cadet branch. I need some tea, Sebastian."   
  "Yes, my lord."  
  At teatime Ciel explained to Lief, Barda, and Jasmine that they were to be confined to the manor, news which they received less than enthusiastically. Barda took it the best, saying that he'd suffered worse than being locked up in a mansion. To Jasmine, a girl practically raised by trees, it was anathema. Lief was somewhere in the middle, being somewhat dismayed but politely saying that it would give him an excellent opportunity to train Jessamine in her new role as queen-to-be.   
  A few hours or so into said tutoring, however, Lief was much less enthusiastic about it.   
  "I am afraid our plan to put Jessamine on the throne may have a few...holes in it," Lief confessed to Ciel in the study after dinner that night.  
  Ciel raised an eyebrow.   
  "Oh? How so?"   
  Lief sighed.   
  "Not only does she barely know how to read," Lief began. "But she has never learned multiplication or division. Jessamine also doesn't know a single thing about Deltora. Not one thing. She didn't even know about the Belt."   
  "Well, living your whole life in Britain will do that to you," Ciel replied, as he signed the letter he was writing and folded it. "As well having your ancestors live in Britain for their whole lives."   
  "I hate to say it, but the Deltoran people are not going to like her," Lief said. "We have to do something about this, or else they'll see her as a puppet."  
   "Isn't she though?" Ciel asked, putting the letter into an envelope and sealing it.   
  Lief's eyes widened.   
  "No," he gasped. "She isn't. What would make you say that?"   
   "For all the reasons you listed," Ciel replied, taking another piece of paper and beginning to write another letter. "She's barely literate, doesn't know basic mathematics, and is completely unfamiliar with Deltoran culture. In other words, she's an ideal puppet queen. For you, for the Resistance, for the British Empire- it doesn't matter. But you don't want a puppet, do you?"   
  "No," Lief insisted. "Which is why we need to do something!"  
  "I'm afraid there's nothing to be done," Ciel told him. "Short of considering alternative forms of government. I hear the Americans have something called a republic. You might want to give that a try."   
  "You don't understand!" Lief cried. "Only a person of Adin's bloodline can use the Belt's power to drive the Shadow Lord out! If anyone else wore it, nothing would happen!"   
  "I see," Ciel mused, frowning as he finished and folded the letter he had been writing. "So that rules out founding a new dynasty, eh? And here I was thinking we could just get Doom to wear the crown. I mean, he's proven himself to be a capable leader so far, and at this point I'm not sure the Deltoran people as a whole are purists about bloodlines..."   
  "You're right," Lief sighed, sinking into a chair near Ciel's desk. "He would be a good king. But he doesn't have Adin's blood. I suppose...this republic thing is the only other option."   
  Ciel leaned back in his chair and burst into laughter.   
  "Do you really think the illiterate masses of Deltora will understand what a republic is, let alone how to make one work? I applaud you for being willing to think outside the box, but seriously, the republic suggestion was a joke."   
  Lief sighed.  
  "Yeah, you're right there too," he admitted. "So what do we do?"  
  "Well, since a new dynasty's not an option, we're going to have to start over and take a look at Adin's other three children," Ciel replied, putting the letter he'd written into an envelope and sealing it.   
  "Or we could just bring Dain here," Lief suggested. "And have him sign the treaty alongside me, Barda, and Jasmine."   
  Ciel snorted.   
  "You're clever, and shrewd, but not shrewd enough. Need I remind you that you have no proof of Dain's heritage? As well as the fact that Jessamine's heritage, on the other hand, is fairly well-documented? Two opposing candidates for the throne is just as big of a problem as none."   
  "I don't follow," Lief said, furrowing his brow.   
  "Let me put it this way: Dain is the one the Deltoran people will support, whereas Jessamine is the one the Queen will."   
  Lief's jaw dropped.   
  Ciel rolled his non-covered eye.   
  "Don't tell me you were so naive as to assume Her Majesty had only your best interests at heart," he said. "Britain is an empire after all, and empires don't get to be empires by playing nice. The Queen is only helping your resistance because of your country's vast, untapped resources, particularly your mineral wealth. If this revolution of yours doesn't pan out, I'm sure she'd pick other options."  
  "Other options? But the Shadow Lord is-"   
  "Yes, he's evil," Ciel interrupted. "But we British are no saints ourselves. You'd best keep in mind that if you Deltorans aren't careful, you may find yourselves out of the frying pan and into the fire, so to speak, once the Shadow Lord is overthrown."   
  "Will do," Lief said, scowling and staring down at the floor.  
   "Now then," Ciel replied, "Back to the task at hand. We must find a replacement heir, one with both well-documented lineage and the education to match. I'm afraid my genealogical records of the other three children are much fuzzier than the one I have of the Anastasi bloodline. However...I do know that Adin's third child, a son named Lukas settled in Tora after his elder brother became king..."  
  "We can't go to Tora," Lief interrupted. "That would not be good."   
  Ciel smiled.   
  "Well done," he said. "Someone in Tora receiving a letter from the Earl Phantomhive would attract more attention than needed."   
  "Well, that, and Tora is also completely empty thanks to its people breaking their vow to Adin," Lief informed Ciel.  
  "Oh," Ciel replied, his pleased expression waning somewhat. "Well-"  
  "I hate to break it to you," Jasmine interrupted, suddenly walking into the study, "But our little soon-to-be princess has fled the nest."   
  "What?" Ciel exclaimed, as he rose from his seat.   
  "Yeah, of all the people I expected to escape the man first, I never thought it would be her." Jasmine mused.  
  "We must go after her, now!" Lief cried.   
  "No, you must stay in the mansion," Ciel reminded Lief. "After all, you are one of the Resistance's appointed ambassadors. You're too important to lose. I will send Finny after her."   
  "Finny?" Jasmine asked.   
  "I have more servants than just Sebastian, you know." 


	4. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessamine, the baker's daughter, is revealed to be dead. An elaborate state funeral is held for her and the members of her immediate family. Ciel then visits Undertaker; Lief follows and spies on them.

       But they didn't have more than one contender for the throne. And, as Ciel and Finny discovered, they didn't have any at all.  
       Jessamine's body was lying near the river when they found her, mostly pristine, except for some strangulation marks on her neck and a horrible burn on her face that Ciel recognized from the Queen's letters as the Shadow Lord's mark.   
      "There can be no doubt about it," he said to himself. "The Shadow Lord has indeed sent someone to kill off the Anastasi bloodline. And now they've succeeded. I must write to the Queen at once."   
      The reception of this news at the manor was mixed. Lizzy cried like a baby, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine were mildly sad, and the Marchioness did not even pretend to feel anything but indifference.  
       "I never thought it was a good idea to have a baker's daughter for a queen in the first place," the Marchioness told Ciel coldly as they sat to have tea the next day. "It wouldn't have been proper."   
       "It's a good thing the ambassadors aren't here," Ciel murmured as he took a sip of tea. "I doubt they'd welcome any defamation of character against their former princess right now."   
       All three ambassadors had refused to show up at teatime and were currently engaged in a variety of activities designed to release their pent-up frustration. Jasmine was currently running rampant around the gardens, and Lief and Barda were sparring with wooden swords.  
        "I thought Lief hated Jessamine," the Marchioness said.   
        "He didn't hate her so much as agree with you about her unsuitability for the Deltoran throne," Ciel explained. "Although for more practical reasons."  
        "Speaking of practicality," the Marchioness said, "Are we really sure we want to hold a state funeral for Jessamine Baker?"  
        "It's not just for Jessamine," Ciel replied. "Messrs. Jacob and Edward Baker are being buried as well."   
        "Yes, well, it seems quite disingenuous to hold a _state funeral_ for a drunk, a baker, and said baker's daughter."  
        "They were claimants to the throne of Deltora,and not only that, but ones with the full backing of the Resistances' ambassadors, and therefore the Resistance, and eventually, Her Majesty," Ciel pointed out.   
        "A _claimant_ is _not_ the same as a fully-enthroned royal," the Marchioness countered, wrinkling her nose. " None of the ideas the ambassadors put in that poor girl's head change what she and her family were in life."   
       "Adin was a blacksmith before he ever was a king," Ciel replied, as he raised an eyebrow and took a sip of tea. "And I gather his isn't the only royal line with common origins. Noble houses don't spring out of the ground noble from the start."  
        The Marchioness would not be the only one to object, however. Ciel would find himself facing opposition from Lief as well, although of quite a different sort.   
        "It's a brilliant move," Lief whispered to Ciel as the pallbearers began shoveling dirt onto the expensive mahogany coffin of one Jessamine Baker. " Disgusting, of course, but also brilliant."   
        "What's brilliant?" Ciel asked with fake innocence.   
        "Don't play dumb with me," Lief said. "The program barely mentions that Edward and Jacob died at all, yet goes on and on about Jessamine. Not to mention the fact that you've invited the queen herself and what appears to be all of the English nobility, and far too many of these newspaper people to count. You're using Jessamine as a martyr to gather support for the Resistance."   
       Lief scoffed.  
       "The long-lost princess, about to take the throne, only to be tragically killed by a wicked agent of the Shadow Lord. Oh, how innocent and pure she was. Oh, how sad it all is, this dead princess that never was. Oh, how the money will come pouring in for the Resistance, how flush with cash we'll be. And meanwhile, absolutely nothing about her actual life or what she meant to those few people that actually came to mourn _her_."   
      Ciel half-smiled.   
       "You have nothing but contempt for me. Good."   
       Lief's eyebrows shot up in surprise.   
       "Good? How is that good?"   
       "Because," Ciel explained. "It means you've learned something. Namely, not to assume that your allies are good merely because they are your _allies_. That will be vital in the days after the Resistance wins, when you come into your full power."   
       "Full...power?"   
       Ciel chuckled.   
       "Are you naive to assume that I think you'll just slip away after all this is said and done, or was that honestly _your plan?_  No, you'll have quite the role to play in the new Deltoran government, I expect. You, Barda, and Jasmine. The heroes who restored Deltora's most sacred relic to its full glory? Who signed the treaty with Great Britain? Indeed, whatever your role is, you are about to become a very powerful man, my friend."   
       Ciel smirked.   
       "Why, they might even make you king if you're not careful."   
        Lief's jaw dropped.   
        "Me? King? B-but...I'm not... my parents are a blacksmith and his wife! I have no more royal blood in me than Sebastian does!"   
         Ciel rolled his non eye-patch covered eye.  
        "And nobody has ever elected a leader to public office based on sheer popularity _alone_ , no. Nobody's ever done that except for, I don't know, the _Americans_ for about a _century now_. Who would _possibly_ choose the charismatic, decorated, saintly hero over the scion of a dynasty of the Shadow Lord's idiot puppets?"  
         Ciel cleared his throat.   
         "Speaking of which, since we've agreed that contacting the said probable scions in Tora is a bad idea, there's something I need to do."  
         With that, Ciel began walking towards the carriage he'd arrived in along with the rest of the crowd currently exiting the Westminster Abbey cemetery.  Lief, Barda, and Jasmine followed suit. Unlike Barda and Jasmine though, who chose to take the carriage they'd originally arrived in back to the mansion, Lief, out of curiosity and a growing lack of trust in Earl Phantomhive,  instead hid himself in the luggage part of Ciel's carriage.  
        As he suspected, Ciel's carriage was not destined for the Phantomhive London residence. Instead- as Lief could never have suspected- it stopped at a funeral parlor.  
        Hiding himself with the magic cloak his mother had made for him, Lief followed Ciel and Sebastian into the funeral parlor, where a creepy man in a top hat with long white hair obscuring his face awaited with a smile on his face.   
        "Hello, Lord Phantomhive," he said. "How was the funeral?"   
         "It was sufficient for our purposes, Undertaker," Ciel replied nonchalantly. "Now, about that background check I asked you to perform?"   
         "Ah yes," the Undertaker said. "Most of the Resistance members turned up negative for anything interesting. Except for one gentleman in particular...the one the ambassadors called 'Dain'. The thing about him is...there is no record of him or his supposedly deceased parents anywhere. No one in the area Dain claims to be from knew of anyone with a son called Dain, or even anyone _called_ Dain for that matter."   
        "Hmm," Ciel said. "So you're saying he might be lying?"   
        "I believe that is exactly what he's doing."   
        Lief's eyes widened.  _Dain? A liar?_ _But how- how does he know?_  
        "Did you find anyone among the rebels with a particular reason to hate the English?" Sebastian asked. "Enough to send my lord death threats?"  
          _Death threats? Someone sent Ciel death threats?_  
        "No, not a one," the Undertaker cackled. "They all _love_  Lord Phantomhive! Except Doom, that is. Doom just tolerates him."   
        "What does Dain think?" Ciel asked.   
        "Dain is more properly cynical," the Undertaker replied. "But not openly vitriolic."   
        "Ah," Sebastian said. "And Lief's parents? Did you manage to find anything on them?"   
         Lief gasped.  
         Why on earth would Sebastian care about his parents? They were peasants! They'd never heard of the earl, let alone sent death threats to him!  
         The Undertaker smirked.   
         "Ah, now here's the thing about them," he said. "Jarred and Anna appear to be a mostly ordinary couple- just a blacksmith and his wife, whose only son  departed the city quite recently. The thing is, though- while Jarred's a relatively recent arrival to the forge, _Anna's not_. She's the granddaughter of the late Crian, who used to be that forge's blacksmith. Or, rather, _isn't_. You see, according to some sources, the Anna who lives in that forge _now_ looks almost nothing _like_   Anna the granddaughter of Crian."  
        "Interesting," Sebastian mused, "So the humble blacksmith isn't who he says he is?"   
        "Of course he's not," Lief snapped, throwing off the cloak. "He was a friend of King Endon's, back in the day. He helped King Endon hide the heir and that's it."   
        All three gentlemen turned towards Lief. A small smile crept up Ciel's face.   
        "Ah, so you've resorted to espionage," Ciel said. "Well done. It's always good to keep an eye on one's allies."   
        Lief, at the moment, however, couldn't care less about Ciel's feelings.  
       "Do whatever you want with me," he said, turning towards Sebastian, and gritting his teeth, "But leave. My. Parents. Out. Of. This. "  
       Sebastian, for his part, merely smiled and said,   
        "But sir, even you must agree that it's all a bit suspicious. Especially the bit about Dain."   
        "That doesn't mean anything!" Lief protested. "You can't find any consistent records of _anything_ in Deltora! Dain could have changed his name to keep the Shadow Lord at bay!"  
         Even as he said it though, he knew it wasn't entirely true. While the Deltoran people as a whole were not exactly enough to keep consistent records, and Dain might have simply changed his name, no one near Dain's home knowing him was a little suspicious. Not to mention...if Lief's mother wasn't Anna of the forge...then who was she?  
        Ciel then whispered something in Sebastian's ear, and left for the carriage.  
          
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	5. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dain is brought to England.

      Lief immediately followed Ciel back to the carriage,  hid himself in his cloak once again, and resumed his place in the luggage. Ciel entered the more conventional passenger's area of the carriage, and after a few minutes, Sebastian did so as well.   
     "Just to be clear, my lord," Lief heard Sebastian say as the carriage drove off, "We're not contacting pretty little Marilen and her family back in Tora?"   
      "No," Ciel replied. "It would only endanger them unnecessarily. Besides, I'm much more curious about what Undertaker said about Lief's mother."   
     "Oh?"   
      "A woman claiming to be a longtime resident of the city without actually being said longtime resident...married to a mysterious new arrival, whom, according to Lief, was 'friends' with King Endon back in the day," Ciel began. "That's rather interesting, don't you think?"   
      "I'm more interested in this Dain character myself," Sebastian said. "A potential heir to the throne, yet who appears to be from nowhere and whose backstory is completely false..."   
       "We don't know that it's false," Ciel replied. "We only know he isn't from a specific part of Deltora. Even that might not be true, though, considering that the Deltoran people are not exactly literate. Not to mention, he's an entire continent away."   
        "Then there's only one solution," Sebastian said.   
         "Yes," Ciel agreed. "We must bring Dain here to England."  
          _Dain?_ Lief thought. _Here? But didn't Ciel explicitly say that bringing Dain here would be pointless?_  
         "It's the only way we can know the truth about him," Ciel continued. "Where he's from, what he's really like as a person, whether or not he actually is the heir to the Deltoran throne..."  
         ***  
       The next day the party returned to the manor house from London. Upon pulling up to the steps, however, the first thing the Earl, Sebastian, and the trio were greeted with was none other than Dain himself.  
         "Dain!" Jasmine exclaimed, leaping out of the carriage and tackling him. "I thought you were staying in Deltora!"   
          "I was," Dain replied. "But Doom decided it wouldn't be practical for me to stay."   
          "Why ever not?" Barda asked.   
           "We found proof that I'm the heir, you see-"  
           "Really?" Lief exclaimed.   
           "Yes," Dain said, beaming as he did. "We did. We recently went to my parents' house, you see, and found a journal that belonged to my father. In it, he confessed that he was King Endon."   
          "That's _wonderful_!" Lief cried, all his misgivings about Ciel and Sebastian temporarily forgotten.  
           He giddily unfastened the Belt and handed it to Dain. Dain, much to Lief's surprise, winced and shook his head.   
           "No," he said. "You keep it. It's not safe yet, and besides, we're not in Deltora, so it wouldn't be much help."   
           Lief sighed and refastened the Belt.   
           "Fair enough. But at least sign the treaty with us."  
            Dain smiled.   
           "Gladly."   
           "Before we do that," Sebastian said, scowling as he did, "Might I have a word with His Highness?"   
           "Certainly," Dain replied. With that, the two of them walked into the mansion. Lief, not trusting Sebastian for an instant, followed them under the cover of his cloak.  
           Sebastian and Dain eventually reached Ciel's study, where, upon doing so, Sebastian immediately said:   
           "Let us do away with all these pretenses, Your Highness."   
           Dain's brow furrowed.   
           "What do you mean?"   
           Sebastian scowled.   
           "Come now, Your Highness, surely you must know by now that I am not human."  
            _I knew it_ , Lief thought to himself, as he hid underneath Ciel's desk. _He's a spy for the Shadow Lord. I bet he was the one who killed-_  
           "Yes, you're a demon," Dain said coolly, as if he'd somehow managed to gain an intimate understanding of Sebastian within three seconds of knowing him. "What of it?"   
         "Because demons recognize one another, _Your Highness_ ," Sebastian snapped. "You may have fooled the ambassadors, you may have fooled the Resistance, you may even, dare I say it, have fooled _my master_ , but you will _never_ fool me. You are not King Endon's son. You are in _no way_ related to King Endon _or_ their precious Adin. You are not even a real farm boy. You, sir, are an _Ol_."   
        Lief stifled a gasp. None of this could possibly be true, could it?   
        Dain's sudden illness in Tora- a city filled to the brim with purifying magic. Dain's refusal to take the Belt just now. Could it- No, no it couldn't.   
        Dain, much to Lief's further surprise, took these accusations surprisingly calmly.   
        "What of it?" he scoffed. "It's not like they're going to _win_. They may have money now, thanks to the British, but they've still don't have a  _real_ heir. Unless you count poor, sweet, Jessamine Baker. Oh wait. She's dead, isn't she?"  
         No. How he did know about that? He'd only just arrived...  
        "You're backing the wrong horse," Dain continued. " You should've joined up with us when you had the chance. Under my master you could've conquered cities, ruled an entire country, as opposed to playing butler for some bratlike you're doing now."   
        Sebastian rolled his eyes.   
        "The waste of immortality you call a master  couldn't prevent a feral child, a hedonistic has-been, and a blacksmith's apprentice from reassembling the one thing that could cast him out from Deltora _permanently_. And that makes what, the _second_ time he's been defeated by nobodies? Or, well, _nearly_ defeated this time. But I'm sure the finishing blow is going to be _spectacular_."  
        Dain gritted his teeth.   
        "Oh? Does the truth hurt, _Your Highness_?" Sebastian asked with mock concern. " Well, ask yourself this: why hasn't your _master_ conquered _anything else_ in the last sixteen years since he conquered Deltora? I'll tell you- it's because the Deltorans, as flush with magic as they are, have yet to mix some rather mundane ingredients into the truly fantastical substance known as gunpowder. I say fantastical, because it has several amazing properties. One of which is, when ignited, it can kill a whole pod of Grey Guards in one fells swoop. Add a big metal tube and have it propel a giant lead ball into the air, and it can do so multiple times. Make the tube and balls smaller, and you can gift this power to an endless supply of soldiers, causing even the most common of soldiers to be able to kill a Grey Guard in an instant, and as many they have little lead balls for."  
        _Wow._ Lief thought to himself. Is that true?  
        Sebastian grinned.  
        "And guess what? Every other country besides Deltora has gunpowder, and therefore explosives, cannons, and guns. Including and especially the British. Who've just aligned themselves with the Resistance. For profit, of course, but still- their lack of morals doesn't make you any less doomed."  
      Sebastian chuckled.   
      "And once these weapons inevitably get into the hands of the Resistance...well, you'll be even more doomed than before."   
      " _Your point_?" Dain snapped, gritting his teeth in annoyance.  
      "My point is," Sebastian continued. " I am not, nor would I ever want to, align myself with a petty tyrant who gets his kicks out of conquering technologically stagnant peoples. The young master provides more challenging, interesting things to do for me in a single day than your master could ever dream of in a lifetime. But then again, that's all par for the course for a boy who's an earl, a businessman, and the Queen's Watchdog. And said queen, may I remind you, presides over _one quarter_ of the globe. And _she's_ not even immortal."  
     Dain shrugged.   
     "Whatever," he said. "It's not like anyone's going to believe you."  
     Dain withdrew a dagger from his belt, slashed his arm, and threw the dagger into the fireplace.   
     "Especially considering that you _attacked_ me," he added with a smirk. "And the papers I found in your room."  
     "Papers which so conveniently happen to declare my allegiance to the Shadow Lord?" Sebastian replied. "Not bad. But I've got one better."   
       Sebastian glanced around the room and said calmly,  
       "I trust that you've heard quite enough, Lief?"   
       Lief's jaw dropped. _No. How did he-?_  
       "Yes, I knew you were eavesdropping," Sebastian replied. "In fact, I was counting on it."   
        Stunned, Lief crawled out from under the desk, stood up, and took off his cloak.   
       "But...how-what-why?"   
       "There are two things I like about you," Sebastian explained. "One, you're clever. Two, you don't trust me farther than you can throw me. Both of which were crucial to my plan."   
        "What plan?" Lief cried.  
        "You recall the last time you eavesdropped on us, in the carriage back from the Undertaker's place," Sebastian began. "How we talked about inviting Dain over. Well, after we arrived at the townhouse, I got a letter from the servants saying that a gentleman named Dain had taken up residence at the country manor, saying that he'd been invited by Doom. However, my master had received no letter from Doom saying that this would happen. Which caused us both to be very suspicious."  
        "So you suspected that the Dain who arrived was not really Dain," Lief said.   
       Lief heard the sound of a portrait being shoved aside, turned toward it, and found Ciel had entered the room.   
       "Not only that, we suspect that there wasn't, nor was there ever, a real Dain to begin with," Ciel added, shoving the portrait back in its proper place.  
       "Wha-no!" Lief cried. "Where'd you get that idea from?"   
       "As you know, I've been receiving death threats from a supposed member of the Resistance," Ciel said. "Now, I know for a fact that most of the Resistance loves me, so they would never threaten to kill me. In fact, the only members of the Resistance who don't absolutely adore me are Doom and Dain. Now, as the British Empire is currently the Resistance's biggest ally, I _know_ Doom wouldn't kill me, because he needs me. I originally considered Dain to be the same, until he showed up at the manor."  
       "Inexplicably, quickly, and without prior notice," Sebastian said, glancing quickly at Dain. "Really- you should have known better."   
        "Indeed," Ciel said. "That was what tipped us off to the notion that _you_ might be the sender. Besides, it takes weeks by boat to get here, at least for a human. And it's barely been a week since the ambassadors arrived. You would've had to arrived at the same time they did. Which is in fact what you did, probably via shapeshifting into a piece of luggage."   
       "But we had no proof," Sebastian added. "And, that, Lief, is where you came in."   
       "So you deliberately and publicly demanded to get Dain alone, knowing that I would follow," Lief finished. "Knowing that I would eavesdrop to protect Dain, so that you could get Dain to confess."   
        "And, that, Dain, is _my_ countermeasure," Sebastian said, glancing at Dain. "You see, the others will not believe me, they might not believe the Earl, but they will, absolutely, believe Lief. Face it, you're done here."  
        Dain glared at the three of them, then immediately withdrew a dagger from his boot, and, in one clean motion, stabbed Lief in the stomach. With a cry of pain, Lief collapsed onto his knees, holding his stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding.   
        "He can't say anything if he's dead, though," Dain snapped.   
        Dain then tossed the dagger into the fire, opened the door, and screamed,   
        "Help! Help! Sebastian just stabbed Lief! Help!"   
        Barda and Jasmine immediately came running into the room.  
        "What happened?" Jasmine exclaimed.  
        She glanced at Lief.   
         "Lief! You're hurt!"   
         "Sebastian stabbed him," Dain gasped breathlessly, widening his eyes.  
         Dain showed her the cut on his arm.   
         "And me too," he added.   
         " _No, he didn't_ ," Lief grunted. "Dain stabbed me and faked the cut on his arm. The knives he used to do it are in the fireplace."   
         "He...he what?" Barda roared.   
         "He's an Ol," Lief explained. "There never was a real Dain. He's been lying to the Resistance the entire time. He-"   
         Lief winced and grunted in painfully.   
         "I think I need a little help."   
         Barda immediately rushed to Lief's side and placed his hand on the injury. Slowly the blood began disappeared, until all of it was gone. The cut then began to close up, until it was nothing but a faint scar, which then began to recede into nothingness.  
         "W-what was that?" Lief exlaimed  
         "It must have been the Belt," Barda blurted out. "It healed your injury."   
         "That can be fixed," Dain hissed.  
          He then lunged after Lief, but Sebastian blocked Dain and grabbed him.  
          "What are your orders, master?" Sebastian asked, glancing at Ciel.   
          "Kill him," Ciel said coldly.   
          "Yes, my lord," Sebastian replied, cracking Dain's neck dispassionately. Dain's dead body then crumpled to the floor, and all that was left of the so-called prince was a corpse.   
         Sebastian wiped his hands together and said,   
         "Well, that's the end of that. I'll go prepare everyone some tea."   
          "W-we can't just leave him in the library," Lief cried. "We have to do something."   
          "We can burn the body _after_ we've had tea," Ciel said firmly, frowning at the corpse.  
          "For once, I agree with Ciel," Jasmine added. "I could definitely do with some tea after this. In the garden, preferably."   
          The idea of Jasmine wanting tea to calm her nerves shook Lief enough to play along, and the four of them departed the library to wait for tea.   
  
  



	6. Revelations

         Tea was served, but it did nothing for Lief's nerves. Instead, it only added fuel to the growing pile of questions Lief had in his head. 

        For starters, how had Dain escaped the notice of everyone except Ciel-who was not only  a bleeding foreigner, but had never set foot in Deltora to boot? And not only that, why had Sebastian admitted to being...a demon in front of Lief? No, had _deliberately engineered_ a situation for Lief to learn that little fact. Did he think Lief would let the fact that Sebastian was a being of pure evil slide?

       What was more...Ciel _knew_ that Sebastian was a demon, too. But for how long? Did the rest of Ciel's family know? Did the other servants know?

      And why would Ciel want a _demon_ working for him anyway?  As a nobleman, and also as an impossibly successful merchant, Ciel could doubtlessly pay a veritable army of far less morally questionable servants to work for him. 

      


End file.
